OverPowered
by WonderfullySarcastic
Summary: Canada usually stays behind after G8 meetings to tidy up the mess other countries leave behind. What happens, when one day, another country decides to stay behind with him?
1. Chapter 1

My breath hitched slightly, my back pressed hard against the wall. I held my polar bear in my arms tightly, holding him up by his armpits. Russia was sitting just in front of me, anger seeming to radiate off of him in waves. I was positive he hadn't seen me yet, but my invisibility only really worked in a room of at least two or more people other than myself. Most people can sense when they aren't by themselves. That's when they actually look for someone and they usually find me. I felt myself bite my lip, nervous that he would spot me at any moment. I was too terrified to try and walk to the door, my feet felt nailed to the floor. What was best for right now was to be calm, quiet.

I quickly squeezed my eyes shut, taking slow, even breaths. Maybe he will just leave, silently fume out the door. I really don't want to get involved with Russia, I don't want to cause any trouble. Trouble was exactly the thing I would get into once Russia noticed me, though. Maybe I should try to escape quickly...

I opened one eye a peek, holding in a sigh of relief that Russia still hadn't seemed to sense me in the room with him. I had a pretty decent reason in my mind for why he was so mad. Al had flipped on him during the meeting, spitting out his "You stupid Commie!" facade in front of everyone. Germany even tried to get him to stop, but Al wouldn't have it. He ripped Russia a new one, making fun of his sisters and vodka, telling him his government is bad and lots of other rude things. Of course, all of that including a large amount of unnecessary swearing. That really got Russia angry. Al had finished ranting and was taking deep breaths. Russia hadn't said one word since Al started. They stared at each other for a few minutes before Al tried opening his mouth again to spew some more garbage. Russia interrupted him, his voice terrifyingly calm.

"One more word and I'll kill you"

was what he said, staring at my brother with such malice, hatred and intent to kill that it made _my brother_, of all people, stay quiet. The two of them stared at each other for a few minutes; Al frustrated beyond belief and Russia quietly fuming. In any other circumstance, I would have at least giggled at how red my brother's face was going, but this was not just any circumstance. There was no doubt in my mind that Russia wouldn't hesitate in staying true to his word. Al stormed out after that, I guess taking Russia's threat seriously.

The meeting carried on very tensely until even Germany couldn't take the silent Russian. He declared the meeting over and gave everyone permission to leave. I usually stay behind for a few minutes to clean up the garbage that people leave from snacks, stack the chairs and wipe down the table. I hate leaving some place messy, I feel like it's disrespectful. So, every meeting I stayed behind. No one notices and no one stays behind either; everyone is usually in a rush to get out.

Russia stayed behind this time though, still sitting unmoving in his seat since Al's comments. I had gotten up and simply decided to wait out of sight until he left. I was positive he would have left by now, it had already been ten minutes. I didn't know what to do, I just wanted him to leave. Maybe if I calmly walk over to the door, acting as if nothing is wrong, he won't notice me. I nervously glance at the mess the room was left in, I couldn't stand leaving it like this. I would have to come back later, when Russia has already left, and then clean up. I hated making people do things that I can do myself, I felt guilty afterwards .. and lazy.

I inhaled a deep breath and turned towards the door, it's now or never. It's either leave by my own will or have Russia spot me and think that I was spying on him or something of that sort. I arched my shoulders back, steaded my shaking legs and started to walk. I made sure my eyes stayed at the door, not daring to look back at the eyes that I could feel digging into my back.

I heard the chair behind me scrape against the floor. I quickened my pace, a bead of sweat starting to stick to my temple.

"остановка," he spat, the venom in his words causing me to freeze in my place.

I spoke a lot of languages but, only a few fluently. Russian was one I hadn't had a lot of training in. I really only knew a handful of words and phrases. He had just told me to stop, and who in their right mind would ignore what he had just told me to do in this situation? I turned around slowly, trying impossibly hard to hide the fear in my eyes. Russia stood towering beside his chair, glaring at me as if I were an insect.

"I-I just was leaving, I-I, uhm, usually stay behind to clean up a bit since, uhm, ev-veryone leaves it dirty. I-I'm sor-ry?" I whispered, averting my gaze and squeezing Kumajaro tightly in my arms.

I stood, shaking, in silence as Russia continued to glare at me. I felt Kumajo yawn in my arms, stretching out his limbs.

"Who?" Kumagi questioned.

"Canada," I whispered back, placing my forehead against his for a split second, getting a little bit of comfort from the familiar feeling of his fur.

I glanced back up at Russia, who was still staring at me. I opened my mouth, but quickly thought twice before talking. I shut it and looked towards the door.

"I'll j-just get out of your way now,"

"Don't."

"P-pardon?" I stammered back at the now smiling country, interest spread across his face. He still held a terrifying aura, however it wasn't nearly as bad as it was only a few moments ago.

"I thought you said you stay behind to clean." he smirked, raising an eyebrow in my direction.

"I-I do, nearly every meeting." I retort, practically squeezing Kumaja to death in my arms.

"Well, I haven't seen you clean yet. Were you lying to me?" he replied with an over-dramatic scowl.

"NO! No, of co-"

"Then why aren't you doing what you said you always do?"

"I t-thought that you w-wouldn't want me here. I was going to come back later to clean," I breathlessly whispered, getting confused and trying hard to understand what had turned his mood.

"Did I say that?"

"Say what?" I huffed, letting my eyebrows knit together.

"That I didn't want you here,"

"W-Well, I just assumed th-"

"I would stop assuming things about me." he smiled childishly, sitting back down in his seat. "Don't mind me, I'll just sit here. You can clean now if you want."

"I-I-But, uhm, sorry, what?" I murmured, my face tinted red.

"Go ahead and clean," Russia stated, sending a glare in my direction.

I bit my lip again, longingly looking at the door before I placed Kumamaru down on the floor, giving him a short pat on the head. Now I didn't really have a choice did I? I scolded myself for not running as fast as I could out the door when I had the chance.

I walked over to the garbage bin in the room which sat by the door. I picked it up, bringing it to the horseshoe shaped table. I stayed on the side of the table opposite of the chairs, starting at where Italy had sat, closest to the door. It had a multitude of trash piled on top, mostly chocolate wrappers. A pizza box was also placed with the wrappers. I left the box, planning on recycling it once finished with everything else, but put all the wrappers in the bin.

Germany's seat, which was beside Italy's, was clean. He always brought reusable containers and never left behind any crumbs either. Japan's seat was next to Germany's, and a few empty noodle cups were stacked there. I picked them up and placed them in the pizza box. I just had to rinse them out and they were good to recycle too.

"Why are you stacking garbage?" Russia questioned, leaning his elbows on the table and placing his head in his hands, the stupid smile still played out on his lips.

"I'm p-putting the recyclables all in one place so it is easier to pick up and toss in the bins outside on my way home," I reply shakily, staring at my hands as I moved to the next section

"Why go to so much trouble? I'd just throw it out," Russia smirked, staring at me as if trying to find something.

"I go to the trouble because it's better for everyone than just throwing it out. It only takes a few extra seconds of my time but it helps a bunch. Why _not_ go through so little trouble to help out?" I manage to say, throwing a shaky smile in his direction, dusting off pastry crumbs.

I felt his glare hitting my back, causing me to shrink into myself as I carried on cleaning. "Note to self," I thought, "Never try to go against Russia's opinion when in the same room with him."

I cleaned a couple more sections, tossing the garbage into the bin and placing the recyclables with the rest until I found myself standing across the table from Russia. The only chair after his was my own which I had cleaned at lunch. I never left anything where I sat, I made sure I cleaned up before the meeting end.  
>Russia had a coffee cup that reeked of alcohol which he clutched in his hands. I had no doubt that it was heavily lined with Vodka. How much, I couldn't say, but I was almost sure more than there should have been.<p>

"A-are you done with that?" I whispered, locking my eyes on the cup.

He didn't reply. I stood for a few seconds, shifting on my feet. Was he being difficult on purpose or was he just naturally stubborn?

"Well, when you are just put it with the recycla-" I murmured, already walking away.

"No,"

"So, your not done?" I asked, turning back around to face him.

"No,"

"N-No to not being done?" I replied, confused.

"What do you think?" he laughed darkly, staring at me with a twisted smile

"You told me not to assume," I said, completely exasperated.

"Thinking and assuming are -"

"The same thing," I whispered, interrupting him mid-way. I was getting a bit frustrated with the situation. "Just please tell me what you mean."

I felt my cheeks redden slightly, this whole mess was starting to put me on edge. I just wanted to clean up and leave, I didn't want to be having such a confusing conversation with such a scary country. I try as hard as I could to lock onto his eyes. He was ruffling my feathers and from the look on his face, he was doing it on purpose. I watched him as he stood up, leaning closer to me.

"No,"

I sucked in a deep breath, holding in the rant I wanted to go on. I spun around on my heel, walking away from the country who was now hysterically laughing in his chair. I placed the bin down beside the door and picked up the pizza box containing the recyclables.

"Until next time," I managed to say without stammering, giving him the best glare I could manage.

"Da, okay," Russia smiled, taking a swig from his coffee cup.


	2. Chapter 2

A blush rose feverishly to my cheeks. I'm not used to people looking at me for longer than a glance so you can imagine how unnerved I was from Russia's creepy stare. I could feel him as he inched closer towards me, a childish grin plastered onto his face. I knew he was trying to intimidate me and I prided myself with the fact that I only started shaking once his leg brushed against my own.

"E-Excuse me!" I quickly whispered, bolting up from my chair.

The whole room stared at me, confused looks on their faces.

"Who?" Kumajiki mumbled out, eyes lazily opening to glance up at me.

"Canada," I replied, drawing my eyes from the other countries to my bear.

However, as soon as I looked back up, it was like I had never spoken out. The countries carried on with their work, ignoring my presence once more. Although it bothered me a little to be ignored, I didn't mind it all that much. I understood that everyone was busy and I didn't want to interrupt their schedules with a quick chat. I was fine with Kumaduku as conversation for no-

I squeaked and jumped away from the wandering hand on my leg, staring wide-eyed at the still grinning Russia. I had forgotten about him.

"What did you just do?" I gaped, taking a step back and placing my hands where he had just touched my thigh.

"I did nothing, da?" he smirked, his eyes shamelessly wandering over me.

I frowned, turning and eyeing the exit of the room. I admit, I was shell-shocked when I came into the meeting to be greeted by Russia with a smile and "Hello". No one remembers me for more than five minutes if I am lucky, other than Al on a select few occasions. It has been a year since the last G8 meeting, since the last time we had spoken. I was torn in-between being happy to have someone remember me for that long or horrified that that someone was Russia.

"You just touched my leg in a suggestive manner," I murmured, failing at making eye contact

"I did what? Are you trying to suggest something, Canada?" Russia smirked, his dark aura slowly snaking out.

"Uh, N-Nothing! I, uhm, No I didn't m-mean it at all in th-hat way," I stammered, hating how I always got myself into awkward messes, "I-I have to go, excuse me."

I'll have to get notes about what I missed from England later, but for right now I just want to get away from Russia, I thought to myself. The attention was starting to get to me.

Without looking back to see the Russian's expression, I crossed the room and went out the door. I slipped into the washroom, closing and locking it behind me. I let out a deep breath and made my way to the sink, turning the cold tap on. I am starting to wish it was just the G7 again. I bring my handful of water up and splash my face, trying to force the shaking out of me; to no avail. I wiped my hands on my pants and stare at my reflection. It stared back at me, looking just as confused as I felt.

What reason did he have for remembering me after such a long time? I had thought I saw him looking at me before, but simply dismissed it as a glance in a random direction; that he didn't really see me at all. I bit my lip, an evil habit starting to rear its head back up. Maybe he did see me.

I shook my head, a small smile shyly crossing my face at the thought. Russia, the strongest country only second to my brother, not ignoring me? The idea was crazy! Even Alfred had trouble remembering the name of at least two of my provinces, yet alone recognizing me as a country. He could be incredibly daft sometimes.

I stood there, hands on either side of the sink, for a while. Time seemed to stand still as my eyes wandered over my own features. Was this what people saw when they looked at me? Too pale skin, hair like France, face like Al, eyes li- I blink, staring at my bright violet eyes. Russia had the same eyes as me. [

My head snapped to the door as a slight knock came from outside. Panic squeezed my heart. What if that was Russia? I immediately throw the idea away, Russia wouldn't be patient enough to knock. He would probably barge right in.

I walked towards the door, grabbing a few pieces of paper towel to dry my hands on the way before trashing them.

"Just a moment, _s'il vous plaît,_ "

I unlocked the door, opening it carefully to reveal a very confused England.

"Who the bloody hell are you and why are you talking like that bloody pervert?" England spat, gaping at me.

"It's me, Canada," I mumbled, my heart aching just slightly at being forgotten by my older brother yet again.

England's face lit up, a red flush covering his face entirely.

"Oh, I-I knew that! Canada, lil' Mattie! Hey, I apologize for being rude."

"It's okay," I smiled up sadly at him, "I'm used to it."

"Right," he awkwardly nodded, shifting on his feet, "Erm, excuse me."

"Oh! Of course, excusez-moi," I politely reply, quickly shifting around England before stopping, "Oh, _frère aîné_!"

"Uh, yes?" England replied, turning around to face me.

"Would you mind giving me a copy of the notes for the meeting? I have missed quite a bit of it I assume,"

"Uh, yeah sure," he mumbled, reaching into his bag to pull out his file folder, sorting through papers until he pulled out a few sheets, "Here are the notes from the beginning. I hope you don't mind that for Alfred's speech, I just listed down all the things he should do to fix his economy and health care instead of his absurd idea of bringing in Tony's friends to help him in the current fight he is in."

"I usually do that too, but list America's ideas in red in case there are any good points for future reference," I smiled, taking the papers from a, once again, shocked England.

"How you and Alfred are brothers, I will never know," he laughed, hand ruffling my hair before turning back to the washroom and closing the door behind him.

I smiled, hand reaching to touch my hair. England hasn't done that since before I left his empire. It was a nice reminder of times before I found out how nasty war was. I have gotten my hands more than dirtied in my short life, of course not nearly as bad as most. I prefer peace-keeping to killing.

Once I got to the door leading to the meeting room, I quietly opened it a crack, peeking carefully inside.

"Hello there," I heard Russia coo from inside, "How are you today?"

"Fine," I huffed, opening the door fully and stepping into the meeting room. I cringed at the mess laid out in front of Russia's spot, "What happened to your part of the table?"

I gaped at him, three empty vodka bottles, a handful of wrappers from a number of various things...it was like fifty countries had eaten where he had sat. Almost as if he purposely brought all his trash!

I placed my notes on my chair before hurrying over to grab the waste bin. I walked over to where Russia was, placing the empty bottles to the left before putting everything into the bin with a swipe of my arm.

"You're recycling the bottles, da?" Russia nodded, looking like student expecting praise from a teacher.

"Yes," I reply, making sure to concentrate on the task at hand instead of the rather huge country.

The realization from the washroom about our similar eye colour hit me, and a sudden urge to stare into his eyes surprised me. Could I get a quick glance without him noticing?  
>"You're not surprised I remember you?" Russia almost sang, standing up and following me to the other side of the table.<p>

I stopped and took my chance, my eyes darting to meet his.

"O-Of co-ourse I am!" I mumbled out, stuttering more from his eyes than embarrassment. They were darker than mine, close to black yet having an immature sparkle to them. His hair was almost white, nearing grey. Was that natural? Will my hair turn that colour after time due to the cold? We both share similar climates, don't we? Is that why he remembers me? If that is so, than how come none of the Scandinavian countries even know who I am? Well, I certainly don't interact with them as much as I have to Russia. Is that why?

I felt myself gnaw on my lip, eyes still locked curiously on Russia's. They were really pretty...cold though.

"You done staring, da?"

"I-I-I," I stammered, realizing that I had been staring at him for a very inappropriate amount of time. Oh God, wait a minute. Did I just call Russia's eyes pretty?

"I-I-I," I tried again before turning my head away quickly, sure the red on my face was brighter than a tomato.

I grabbed a handful of Al's burger wrappers, some sauce dripping down my arm. I squealed, dropping both the bin and the wrappers to the floor. I pouted at my arm, looking around for something to wipe my arm with. I rushed to my bag, unzipping one of the many zippers to pull out a small packet of Kleenex.

"Want help?"

"N-No! I am fine!"

"You sure?" Russia kol'ed, advancing quickly towards me, snatching the tissues from my hands, "I'll help, da?"

"Give me back my Kleenex," I whisper, trying pathetically to grab them as Russia raised them high over his head. The sauce dripped to my elbow and I had to give up.

"What are you going to do with them?" I sighed, looking longingly at my little pack of tissues.

"I just want to help," Russia quickly replied, bringing his hand down and delicately pulling out a single tissue, "Give me your arm, da?"

I glanced back at my bag, I had another package in the other pocket.

"No, thank you," I walked over to my bag and puledl the other package out, quickly grabbing a single tissue and wiping the sauce, "I am perfectly capable of doing things myself."

"Where is the fun in that," Russia chuckled, coming up behind me, his neck barely skimming the top of my head.

"H-How co-ould wi-iping sauce off-f of my elb-bow be fun?" I stammered, feeling Russia's hands dangerously close to very inappropriate areas.

"Well, I could think of many different ways that wiping sauce off of many different places could be fun," Russia replied with a huskier tone of voice.

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD.

"Don't you agree..." Russia started, as his fingers starting to wander before they stopped abruptly. "You haven't told me your human name yet,"

I felt his stomach move as he chuckled, feeling the cold of his dark aura leeching outwards. I shrank away as his breath landed on my ear.

"And what is your human name, may I ask?"

"I think calling countries by t-their h-human name is imp-po-polite," I stuttered, trying hard to take control over my speech.

"So, you refuse to tell me you name, da?"

"I-I-I"

"What if I tell you mine first?"

""I, uh, I-I-I'm no-"

"You can call me Ivan," he whispered, hands locking around my waist.

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD.

There was a quick knock at the door and my head snapped in the direction as I quickly got out of Russia's distracted grasp.

I grabbed my bag, but hesitated as I watched the maid peek through the door. I couldn't let her clean this up by herself. I stopped and looked back at Russia, his face letting me know that he knew exactly what I was thinking. At least with the maid here, he couldn't try any of that stuff again. W-Wait, would he?

I gulped before turning and dropping my bag back down. I cringed at the smile rushing onto Iva-RUSSSIA's! Oh God, I mustn't ever call him by that name.

I turned to the maid who was already picking up the garbage bin I had dropped.

"Oh no, it's okay!" I whispered, trying to quickly get back on the other side of the table, "I've got it!"

"No, no! It's my job," the Maid smiled kindly, reaching across the table to the Kleenex I had used and the one Russia had discarded. Her accent was thick, her speech slow. She was most definitely not fluent in English.

"I want to help though,"

"It's fine, your job isn't to clean up, yours is probably something way more important," she smiled once more, placing the tissues in the bin.

She wore a very skimpy outfit, one that I had to turn my eyes away from. France, whenever he held meetings, always made the help wear very revealing outfits. He always said it was for _l'amore_, which I personally find has nothing to do with people being forced into things they might not want to wear. I felt even worse for the girl, having to bend down awkwardly when getting the trash I had spilt onto the floor.

I glanced at Russia who seemed to have a very different opinion. He greedily looked at the women, eyes practically raping her.

My lower back burnt, he was looking at her as if all he wanted to do was rip her clothes off! I would guess he was only thinking the same thing when looking at me. I turn my head, ashamed for no reason.

"Excuse me, _et désolé pour n'aide pas toi_. " I apologize to the girl, not moving until her eyes met mine. They light up when she realized I spoke French.

"_Tu parle Français_?" she rapidly spewed, eyes glistening.

"_Oui, je suis bilingue dans français et anglais. __Je suis canadien_," I replied, my accent matching hers, only a little differing slightly.

I matched her smile as it grew ear to ear.

"_Tout le monde parle anglais, en français pas! Merci, j'apprécie vr__aiment!_ "

"_Bienvenue-toi_," I reply before turning to grab my bag over the table.

Russia's hand gripped my wrist with enough force to cause me to yelp.

"What were you saying, da?"

The French maid gasped, glancing quickly in-between my face and Russia's.

"You haven't told me your name,"

"Please let go, you are scaring her," I whispered, eyes not moving from the girl's.

"Tell me your name," he ordered, nails digging into my skin.

I flinched, the French girl's eyes moving to my wrist.

"M-Mathew," I stumbled out, pulling on my hand as he let go, "My human name is Matthew,"

I grabbed my bag, turning towards the door and walking. I flashed the maid a warming smile.

"_Quitte, il n'est pas sûr._" I whispered to her.

She nodded, gathering the garbage on the floor quickly. I looked over at Russia, my wrist starting to throb. I sent him a glare, shaking my head as I walk towards the door.

"Goodbye Mattvey,"

I stopped in my tracks.

"Please call me, Canada," I reply, opening the door and closing it quickly behind me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh geez, this is my first time doing an Author's note. **

**First off, I want to thank those of you who have review, honestly, it means a lot to me when I log on and see someone has taken the time to tell me how they feel about my story ^^;**

**I just want to apologize that this is kind of short, I have been working on a one-shot for RusCan and it feels like I'm writing a book ... **

**The next chapter will be longer, I promise! I have a lot planned out to happen between these two ~**

**As suggested by **_Eureka121_**, I am going to add some translations at the end of the story. I hope this helps you understand a bit more! If you see something that seems wrong in one of the languages I use for this story, please tell me. My french isn't perfect and I don't speak Russian.**

**As always, reviews are wonderful, but don't feel pressured if you don't want to. I do reply to all reviews though if given ^^;**

"Please stop staring at me," I whispered to Russia urgently, "It's disturbing me,"

"No, I don't think I will, _Mattvey_," Russia replied, putting enough emphasis on my name to make me flinch.

The past year had been...interesting to say the least. It was like Russia had all of sudden "_became interested in better relations between these two northern countries_" as quoted by his prime minister. He ever so slowly started inviting my prime minister over; for dinners, conferences, etc. I had gotten away with faking ill to not go, saying the oil sands were giving me a headache or my debt was giving me a small fever. However, nothing prevented Russia and his prime minister from coming to my home.

I had tried various methods of subtle persuasion, but my prime minister didn't seem to take the bait. It was all, "_we should make an equal effort_", "_avoiding conflict_" and other things to make me feel guilty.

Of the three times Russia had come over, this was the first that he had addressed me with my formal name. Luckily, it had been when both his own prime minister and mine had left to discuss some private matters. He hadn't even attempted conversation, just stared at me for the hour or two from when they had left until now.

"B-But that's way t-too personal," I mumbled under my breath as I gave Kumamuk a stroke with one hand, anxious for our prime ministers to return.

"I'll call you whatever I want, _Mattvey__,_"

"I've asked you nicely," I grimaced, failing very hard at eye contact. My eyes had met his chin only to rush back to my polar bear.

"Your point?"

"T-This is m-my house," I attempted to say sternly, epically failing as my tongue seemed to swell.

"Very intimidating," Russia laughed, leaning forward to place his head in his hands, "You understand why they left us alone, da?"

"Th-They had important th-things to discuss in priv-vate," I stammered, still staring at Kumamou.

"They will be back in five minutes, if not sooner. If there was anything important needed to be discussed, we would need to be present. They wanted to see how we interact with each other, so act like you love me when they come back in or I'll gut your little dog there," Russia smiled, reaching out to pat my thigh, "I think that is fairly reasonable,"

"Wh-Wh-WHAT!" I cried out, hugging Kumabear closely as my face drained of all colour, "You won't t-touch him! What gives you the right!"

I slapped his hand off my leg and stood up, he stood as well, towering over me by a good foot.

"Did you not understand?" Russia smiled, his face muscles tensed as he restrained himself from who knows what, "Do I have to show you?"

"N-NO NO,!" I squeaked, bringing my hand to roughly pat his shoulder while nervously laughing, "B-Best friends, eh? Love? All that jazz?"

"Right," Russia smiled hugely, grabbing me into a hug just as a knock hit the door and the two "missing" prime ministers appeared again.

"Cana-" My prime minister had started before gaping at the iron-clad hug I was in, "C-Canada!"

"B-Best friends," I managed to choke out before Russia let go of me and placed an arm over my shoulders.

"Da, we _love_ each other," Russia mused, smiling as if he had just won a new toy, "Me and my comrade _Mat-"_

"B-BEST FRIENDS!" I quickly interjected, I refused to let him use my name again!

"Please tell me since I forget, what's your _dog's_ name?" Russia glared, smiling down at me, a chilling feeling hitting my spine.

"H-He's a Polar B-Bear," I stammered squeezing Kumagigi hard enough to make him give out a short yelp, "H-His name is Kumakimo,"

"Kumakimo?" Russia questioned, "I thought it was Kumajiro?"

"No, it's Kumafigu," I told him, trying to set him straight.

"You just said his name was Kumakimo,"

"Yes, it's Kumahico!" I said, frustrated. How hard was it to get his name right?

"But, you just s- never mind," Russia sighed, pinching the nerve between his eyes, "You know exactly what I am trying to get at,"

"B-BES-ST FR-FRIENDS!" I screamed [which was about a normal person's tone of voice], clinging to his side, "I LIKE RUSSIA SO M-MUCH!"

"It's great to see the two of you getting along so well," my prime minister smiled, looking between the two of us as if they knew something we didn't, "The two of you being close will help a lot in the future plans we have."

"Agreed completely," mused the Russian prime minister as the two of them exchanged a look.

The meeting went on, both Russia and I sitting with our leaders. Russia had been staring at me for a long time now, his childish grin still stuck on his face. _I swear to God, he isn't a country...he's Satan himself. No, he's probably worse than Satan. Satan wouldn't threaten my Kumadee just because he wants..._

_Why in God's name did he even _want _me to say we liked each other? What exactly is going on, what are they planning?_

I glared at Russia, which most likely just looked like I was pouting. He let out a low chuckle and I turned my other cheek, glancing towards the window. It was piled high with snow outside, as per usual for a January.

I longed to get out of the room and get back to my house where I could sit by the fire with my polar bear, drink some hot cocoa and maybe hang out in the snow for a bit. _Maybe I could just sneak to the door, I don't think anyone would notice._ I glanced at the three, and felt that idea rush out of the door without me as they all looked at me expectantly.

"So?" urged my prime minister with a smile, "What do you think?"

"Uh..."

"About going to Russia?"

"Wa-What!" I squeaked out, throat tightening.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Russia smirked, "Around the Суперсерия was near the last time, I believe?"

"S-Summit Series?" I stammered, ducking me head shyly, "I think so,"

As uncomfortable as I might have felt around Russia when we talked, it was something else entirely when we were on the ice. The Summit Series was crazy, forever in my _Top 10_ _Hockey Games_ list. I admit I got a little violent, but so did Russia. It was hockey in it's finest form; pride and tension filled every second.

That certainly brought back memories, but I didn't have any plans on having another "friendly" game with Russia until the Olympics. _How the hell am I supposed to get out of this visit?_

"I-I-, uhm, y-you see he-"

"Then it is set," Russia beamed, standing up, "You're coming up next month. Bring something warm, it will still be winter when you come."

"B-B-"

Russia grabbed my arm, pulling me to stand up with him. He quickly wrapped his fingers around mine in a handshake. He squeezed unnecessarily hard, crushing my hand inbetween his.

"See you quite soon, _Mattvey_," Russia almost growled, his darker side seeming to seep through.

With that he let go of my hand; I clutched it close to my chest.

"Goodbye to you too, little bear," Russia cooed, patting the oblivious bear which I had sat down by my feet.

He nodded to my prime minister before rushing out the door, his own prime minister tailing after with a quick good-bye and a thank you.

Once the door closed, my knees collapsed and I plopped onto the couch with a _thud_.

Oh, _fuddle duddle, _what have I gotten myself into?

**Translations:**

**Суперсерия – **Summit Series

**Fuddle Duddle –** Infamous word quoted by Prime Minister Pierre Elliot Trudeau when accused of mouthing "fuck off" in the house of commons. He simply told the press he had said _"fuddle duddle"._


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello Lovelies ~  
>Thank you so much for reading this story! I really appreciate every hit and every review I get! It means tons and inspires me to write! So, thank you once more. Another plot building chapter. A free hug to anyone who can find the Trailer Park Boy's reference in here. ;)<br>You hint; None other than Lahey himself!**

**No translations this chapter; it's all English. Your welcome from sparing you the Google Translate trip. :D**

**Enjoy and please do tell me what you think, but if you don't want to, that's fine!**

* * *

><p>Are you ready yet?" came a voice and a knock and my door, scaring me enough to jump a little.<p>

"A-Almost!" I called back, sitting on top of my suitcase, trying to zip it up.

After the visit, my prime minister and Russia's had pretty much exchanged phone calls every week. It ended up going from a three-day stay to a three week stay. Instead of staying in a hotel, I was now staying in Russia's house. Not only that, but there was a long list of "activities" that Russia had apparently written up for us to do.

_Heh. This is going to be _great_._

I finally ended up pulling the zipper around the last stubborn corner, hopping off of my bag and grabbing the second suitcase I was bringing. Both had wheels and were originally my flag. However, every time I visited another country, I plastered a sticker of their flag on. So, by now, my suitcases were practically covered, even over-lapping in some areas, the only Canadian flag visible was the small one I tied around the handle to one of them.

I heaved both of the heavy bags out the door, Kumamo following me with my carry on in his mouth. I was going to miss him over the next couple weeks, but my prime minster insisted that he stayed at home. She promised to take special care of him, which definitely meant coming home to a spoiled rotten Kumabee.

We reached the car, having to carry my bags through the snow. The driver offered to take them but, I simply declined and placed them in the trunk myself. I opened the door for Kumajino first before I followed him in. He was going to come with me until the airport, where we would say goodbyes.

His paws were wet and had moistened the seat. Luckily, my pants were thick and I couldn't really feel it.

My prime minister was already in the car, looking very nice with her pencil black skirt and deep red blouse. I admit, I felt a bit embarrassed by my comfy traveling clothes, loose-fiting jeans and my signature red hoodie.

"Canada," she nodded.

I mimicked the gesture.

"I guess there is no need for me to tell you to be on your best when you're over there, that this is very important."

"W-Why is it important?" I mumbled, curiosity getting the best of me.

"Better relations between the two of you," she smiled, as if it was completely obvious.

"Well, I know that!" I sighed, "But, there has to be more to it than that!"

"When you come back, I'll tell you." she said, pinching the nerve in between her eyes, "But as of right now, all I can say is that this is really important for the two of you to get along. A lot of my future plans are resting on this fact,"

"Plans?"

"If I tell you them now, they will be rendered useless," she smiled, "But, all I can say is that it would greatly benefit us if you try your best to befriend him,"

"But he's so rude," I grumbled, glancing out the window, "And scary..."

"You never know, maybe he has a nice side," she laughed, rubbing my shoulder.

I laughed with her, knowing full well I was I _so _going to die in Russia.

I really did love my prime minister, she was really nice and really good at public speaking. Very convincing too, I had hardly ever seen her lose an argument. She was very good at keeping conversations going as well, I never really felt invisible around her because she always had something for the two of us to talk about.

We started off with the topic of how to make the perfect pancake and how much syrup should be on it. I prefer mine drowned, while she preferred hers with just enough to layer the top. We debated over if they should be fluffy or thin, eventually leading into the topic of crépes and which were our favorites. Which then, in turn, lead us to the issue with the French and how we can de-stress the relationship between the English and them.

Before I knew it, we had driven into the airport and it was time for me to go. She couldn't come in with me, as the public might get a little overwhelmed by her sudden appearance. So, with a handshake, a farewell and a goodbye hug from her, I stepped out of the car, my polar bear trailing me.

"No Kuma, you have to stay,"

"Why?"

"We've been over this before, Kuma. Plus, you're staying here with the Prime Minister, you know she'll spoil you!" I giggled.

"I'll miss you." he said, walking up to my leg and nuzzling it.

I picked him up and gave him a big squeeze before putting him back in the car.

"Now be good and don't eat too much," I whispered to him, giving his head a quick scratch.

"No promises,"

I laughed as I shut the door and made my way to the trunk. I opened it with one hand and then pulled out my two bags and my carry on.

I rolled the two bags with me towards the door of YYZ, someone kindly holding the door for me as I walk through. I thanked them quietly, before rushing through. It was hectic and the sheer mass of people inside the airport never failed to cause me to feel slightly sick.

With a gulp, I made my way towards the booth to pick up my tickets.

..oOo..

"Why are you going to London?" the young boy asked me, about halfway through the flight.

He had been staring at me since we took off and only a few minutes ago did he come and ask to sit beside me. I smiled and agreed, moving my carry on from the aisle seat to my lap so he could sit with me. It was a ten hour flight before the first stop so, I could understand if the boy was a bit bored. He told me his name was Matthew. I told him that was also my name and he laughed, saying that he knew because he was named after me.

"Well, this plane has two stops; London and Moscow." I smiled, "I am going to Moscow. What about you, why are you going to London?"

"Family visit, my mom wants us to go see my Aunt and Uncle and cousins," he shrugged, "I get to have a couple weeks off of school, so I'm all for it. So, why are you going to _Moscow_ then?"

"To, uh, v-visit a friend," I murmured, head ducking a bit.

"Do you mean Russia?" the boy excitedly chirped up, "That's so cool! Mom said if we have time, we could go try and see if we could take a photo of England! I don't think we will though, because my Aunt always talks her out of it and we end up going to get fish and chips instead..."

"Trust me when I say, that's probably best," I laughed a bit, the image of England getting mobbed by people wanting his photo invading my mind, "I don't think he would enjoy it that much!"

"You know England too!" he smiled, "What's he like?"

"Uh, well he raised me after France couldn't take care of me anymore," I said, "He is not as good as a cook as France was, but he was very good at telling Al and I bedtime stories. They were always the best, with goblins and elves and fairies and dragons!"

"That's awesome!"

"Yeah, he was a very good brother," I smiled, getting a bit lost in memories, "I really should drop by sometime..."

"Why don't you come with us!" he beamed, as if that was the best idea ever.

"As much fun as that would be, I don't think it would be best to keep Russia, of all countries, waiting," I laughed a bit.

"But if you were there I could meet England! You know, you're the only country I've ever met!" he huffed, a touch of sadness in his voice.

"Well, I'll see what I can do about that. Just wait until we land, I'll make a call," I winked.

"T-TO ENGLAND!" he grinned ear to ear, "Can you really do that!"

"Of course I can, but no promises," I smiled, "We countries can be quite busy sometimes."

"This is so _cool!_ I have to go tell mom!" he squealed, getting up from the seat and racing back to his mother.

I smiled, feeling quite good. I burrowed back into my seat, glancing out the window at the darkening sky. All I could see was water, the horizon beautiful shades of red and orange.

_Red sky at night, Sailor's delight._

I really, really hoped that saying was true. I had no idea what to expect come tomorrow when we landed first in London and then Moscow.

_I might as well get some rest_, I thought as my eyelids were slowly getting heavier. I turned my head and snuggled into my seat, letting my mind drift away.

...oOo...

I was woken up by the same young boy I had talked to earlier, gently shaking me awake.

"We've landed!" he cooed, face beaming.

I groaned, looking out the small window to see that what the boy had said was indeed true. We had landed and there was already people leaving the plane.

"Are you going to call him?" he asked, shaking me a bit harder.

"Yes, yes!" I laughed, sitting up straighter, "Just hold on a minute, I need to stand up."

I stood up and stretched, hearing my joints crack. My shoulder blades were a bit sore, but that was to be expected when taking an airplane. They always had the most uncomfortable seats!

"Alright, go get your mom and I'll see what I can do," I smiled, looking around for the young boy's mother.

"Mom!" he called out, waving over a red-haired women with striking blue eyes. She wore a pair of grey sweat pants and a tight red sweater zipped up to her midsection. A white tank was worn underneath.

"Hello," I blushed, ducking my head slightly as I held my hand out to her, "I-I'm Matthew Williams, may I ask who you are?"

"Yes, I am well aware of you and it is simply fantastic to meet you. I am Miranda Thompson," she said, gripping my hand firmly, "I really am grateful that you would offer to call up Mr Kirkland to see if my son could visit him, I know this is a lot to ask! I am really thankful, my son is a bit of a history buff at this age. Do you know he has posters of you all over his wall?"

"MOM!" Matthew cried out, blushing to his ears.

"I-I-I," I really had no idea how to respond, our hands separating as Matthew rambled and she laughed.

"U-Uhm, it m-might be best to get off-f the plane now," I stammered, rather embarrassed as I stood up awkwardly from my seat.

"You really are as bashful as they say," she smiled, "And sure, take the lead."

She motioned with her hand to where the passengers were getting off. I nodded and turned towards the exit, Matthew and his mother following.

"My room's not _full_," Matthew tried to explain at my side.

"I-It's okay," I smiled, patting his head lightly, "Don't worry about it."

"Okay," he grinned, seeming to be over it within a snap second.

We exited the plane, going through all the procedures. I told them I would meet them at the baggage pick-up while I went outside to call.

I leaned against the door, shivering a bit inside my baggy sweater as I hurriedly dialed the numbers.

It rung three times before a familiar voice chimed, "Yes?"

"England?" I whispered.

"For God's sake Matthew, if you're going to call me pipe up a bit!" he sighed, causing me to cringe a bit.

"How did you know it was me?" I said, raising my voice like he had asked.

"Caller ID,"

"Oh, right," I murmured, "Uh, I have a bit of a favour to ask you. If it's too much, that's fine, you don't have to do it. I was just wondering, since it would be really nice if you could, but like I said don't feel obligated or anything because i-"

"What do you need, Matthew?" he asked, chuckling lightly.

"Well, I have two of my citizens who r-really want to meet you; a l-little boy and his, uh, h-his mother," I said, feeling a bit stupid, "The little b-boy, Matthew, did y-you know he is named after me? Well, he wouldn't s-stop talking about h-how he w-wanted to meet countries and he was v-visiting you so I a-assumed that maybe yo-"

"Matthew! Calm down, that's not too much at all. I was actually about to call you up for our monthly tea next week, but I guess now is a better time. You three can come over for tea at ... is six okay?" he asked, a slightly happier ring to his voice.

"S-Sounds good!"

"Alright, see you then." he said, hanging up briskly afterwards, he was never one for long goodbyes.

I smiled too, rather pleased with myself. _Now, to go back inside and tell th- _

_Oh shit._

I scrambled to my pocket and pulled out my ticket, staring at the take off time; 2PM.

_Oh this sucks! But I couldn't let Matthew down, or England after I just agreed to a time! Oh goodness, what am I supposed to do?_

I gnawed at my lip as I shakily searched my contacts for a certain number. I hit the talk button and waited patiently, ending up with the voice mail.

"U-Uh, hello I-Ivan!" I croaked, my voice changing pitch and volume, "I, uh, I-I'm sorry, but, uhm, I-I'm n-not going to b-be t-there on t-time. I'm, uh, v-visiting England and, uh, w-will be there by t-tomorrow or the next-t day, m-maybe! Uhm, c-call me back if-f need to kn-now anything m-more. Okay, bye."

I hit the end button, rather flustered. I put my phone back into my pocket as I turned to re-enter the airport. Alright, now to go get Matthew and Mrs. Thompson.

...oOo...

"Yes! I remember it like it was yesterday, such a stupid thing!" England grinned, smiling at me as he took another sip of his tea.

Mrs. Thompson, or Miranda as she insisted on the ride over, laughed at the answer to her question. Turned out that she was a History Professor at University of Toronto and apparently was not as shy as to not bombard England with questions once the opportunity had arised.

"I still can't believe I am having tea with England," she murmured, "This is spectacular!"

"It's wonderful to meet some of Matthew's citizens, we don't usually have guests for tea," he smiled, "It's a nice change,"

"You're really cool too," Matthew bubbled, clutching his camera tightly to his chest. He had asked England for a picture when we had first come. Surprisingly, England agreed. In fact, he insisted we all got into the shot. Matthew hadn't loosened his grip on the thing since, and that was about two or three hours ago.

England's cheerful, social attitude did seem rather unusual now that I think about it. He's usually more awkward when meeting new people, not as charismatic as he is acting now. Our teas are mostly a more casual, relaxing affair rather than this entertaining Q & A session.

"He's adorable," England grinned, "Reminds me so much of you when you were younger, Mattie, excited about every little detail and dying to explore every nook and cranny of anywhere in reach. Of course, you were a lot more subtle about it, not as bubbly as this little guy."

I blushed again as Matthew beamed. I wasn't too used to praise from my older brother. I opened my mouth to reply, but was cut off by the Russian anthem playing loudly from my phone.

_Oh lordy, here comes a shit blizzard._

"E-Excuse me," I mumbled, my fear quite evident on my face.

"Canada?" I heard little Matthew question before I hurried out of the room.

I hesitantly answered the phone, timidly issuing a "_hello?_"

"Hello,"

There was silence.

"H-How are you?" I stammered, twisting the stings from my hoodie around my finger.

"Where are you?" he demanded, voice quivering slightly at the end from what I could only distinguish as anger.

"E-Eng-gland-d," I barely managed to say, the sound of his voice causing me to want to run away even though I knew he was hundreds of kilometres away.

"Why aren't you here,"

"I-I left you a message," I replied, trying impossibly hard to steady my voice.

"Come here now,"

"I-I can't! I'm in the middle of a tea with friends!" I told him, becoming frustrated.

"You are fucking everything up, so I suggest you get over here within ten hours or you will seriously regret it," he hissed, I could hear the tension through the line.

I stood frozen for a second, unsure of how exactly to approach this. Russia would surely do something cruel to me if I showed up any later, but then again I left a message! And I made a promise to Matthew as well as to England to come to tea. Then again, I also promised my prime minister that I would try my best to get along with the Russian. This was just becoming a mind-numbing problem.

The situation at hand, my tea with Matthew, his mother and England, I decided was my main priority of the evening. It's not like it is dire for me to get to Russia this instant, right? I'm going to be there for a whole three weeks! It won't matter if a single day is lost! There is no need for him to be this upset, he is just acting silly!

So, I squeezed my eyes shut and thought of every last thing involving the Russian that has made me really, really mad; The World Juniors, the Olympics, the Cold War, sitting on me, threatening my Kuma.

"You know w-what,?You c-can w-wait a while!" I shakily told the receiver, my voice hitching a bit at the end from not being used to using such high tones. I hesitantly slammed my pointer finger down on the end button, a sinking feeling starting to flood my lower stomach.

_Oh my God, what have I done._


	5. Chapter 5

My stomach hit the floor, as if everything in my gut had just been sucked out. My knees started to shake, losing the power to keep me standing up straight. I had to lean haphazardly against the wall for support, my breath catching in my throat.

I feverishly hit redial, over and over and over again, trying to apologize for my obscene behaviour, but the line rung once before the answering machine. I tried and tried, not yet figuring out that it was futile to do so. Leaving a message wouldn't do anything, I needed to be able to talk to him to explain!

"Why won't it work!" I almost cried, my head filling with the graphic images of what Russia would do to me once I got to his house if I didn't solve it then. "WORK!"

I started slamming my fist against my phone, not really thinking clearly. The only thought cycling through my head was "_What have I done?"_. I ended up being too forceful and broke my phone, pieces of buttons falling to the ground. I cursed under my breath, eyes darting around as if Russia would pop out of nowhere and tear me limb from limb.

I rushed down the hallway, checking behind me ever so often, paranoia starting to make my head dizzy.

_What have I done? My prime minister gave me one thing to do, be nice! And look, I've already fucked it up before I've even gotten there!_

I raced down the halls, getting a bit confused seeing as I was quite disillusioned at the time. I almost fell several times, feeling as if the world was crashing in around me.

_What did I do!_

I stumbled into the sitting room, startling Matthew, Miranda and England.

"Matthew, are you okay?" England asked, brotherly concern written all over his face, "You seem really pale, what happened?"

I stood there, jaw snapping shut, unsure of exactly what to say.

"Matthew?" England questioned, concern thick in his voice as he set his tea cup down and stood up.

"I-I-I need your phone," I stumbled, feeling my stomach squeeze uncomfortably before breaking into a cold sweat.

Silence.

"Why? What's wrong with your cell?" he questioned, standing up, looking in between my citizens and me. They looked just as confused as he was.

I shakily held out my phone, dropping the bits that remained on the floor. I had clenched it in my fist while running towards this room, unaware that I hadn't restricted my strength. A few pieces had been sharp enough to prick my skin, smears of blood on my palm. That earned a gasp from Miranda and an expression of awe from little Matthew.

"Please excuse us for a minute," England smiled to them before heading towards me and grabbing my wrist, "Don't be afraid to take another scone while I'm gone,"

I followed England as he pulled me along the hallways, images blurring together as I imagined Russia and his pipe. I didn't even realize we had stopped and were in a different room until the heels of his palms bit into my collar bone, fingers clenching at my back.

"What happened, Matthew?" he urgently whispered, trying to catch my gaze as my eyes wandered around our new surroundings.

"I made a mistake," I choked out, "I-I just w-wanted t-to sp-pend a little time..."

"What did you do, Matthew."

"I-I'm sorry," I sniffed, bringing my sleeve up to wipe my nose. Even though I refused to outright cry, my nose started to run like when I was little.

"Hey, it's alright," he smiled, obviously strained, "Just tell me what happened and I might be able to help."

My eyes finally met his and I felt like I was barely 50 again. I remembered how much I had idolized him, wanted to be him. My childhood flashed inside my brain quickly, luring me to blurt out my soul to my big brother.

"I-I yelled at Russia that he c-could wait for me because he was being rude and d-demanding me to come. Then I h-hung up on him," I mumbled, feeling rather idiotic and ashamed. No doubt England was looking at me like I was stupid. I hated that look, I remember seeing it when I refused to go to war with him for a week when I was younger.

There was silence and I waited a few seconds before glancing back up at him from my shoes. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders when I saw he wasn't staring at me the way I thought he would. He look concerned and a bit frightened, as if indecisive about what to say next.

"I'm going to lend you one of my cars to drive to my private airport. I'll let you borrow one of my planes to take you to Russia," he said, interrupting me before I objected, "Don't you dare say you'll go on an Economy flight, that will only make you waste your time. The driver will drive the car back and the plane will be flown back as well. Now, I'll take care of your citizens, tell them you realized you forgot to feed Kuma or something, okay? So go, take care of your problems and if the situation gets any worse just call me. Here, take my phone. Don't worry, this is my personal one. Please, just ignore anything from France. No matter how many times I end up changing my number, he still ends up finding it out. Find a new phone, upload my number and then smash mine."

"What does he send you that's so bad?"

"Let's leave it at I opened one of the messages once and .. just oh God," he shuddered, looking off into the distance before snapping back to attention, "Now go! Shoo!"

...oOo... 

I had fallen asleep on the flight after exhausting myself in worry. Nonsense questions had fleeted through my head until it overloaded enough for me to drift off. By the time we had arrived, the stewardess had gently shaken me awake.

I exited the plane, taking my luggage with me to a prepared car which would drive me over to Russia's home, a sickening feeling starting to spiral out from my stomach. I was already thinking of fifty different ways to apologize, ranging from a brisk "sorry" to begging on my hands and knees for forgiveness.

No matter which option I played out in my head, Russia didn't seem too pleased afterwards. I don't think anything I say will change his mind, so I might just settle with keeping a bit of my dignity and explain what little I can for my outburst. It's not my fault, dealing with other nations and their citizens leaves me quite quiet and reasonable, but when it's problems with my own citizens I might get a bit delusional.

I breathed a nervous sigh, staring quite uncomfortably out on my fellow northern country.

Time seems to fly when you don't want it to, and it stands still when you want it to fly. In this case, I wanted it to take years on end for me to get to Russia's place, but unfortunately the rules of our universe disallowed my plea since it felt like mere minutes before the chauffeur was declaring we were there.

My limbs started to shake and I found it quite hard to even push the handle down to get out of the car. I climbed out quickly, standing too fast and making my already throbbing head turn dizzier. I felt like passing out, just letting everything go black so I wouldn't have to deal with what I was going to have to once I entered the house.

It looked huge and threatening and I didn't want to take another step towards it. It was roughly five stories and I could only guess how many rooms wide...

I got a little start when I heard my luggage _clack_ down beside me; the chauffeur had gotten my bags for me.

"Cпасибо," I murmured to him, butchering the last syllable. He grimaced and nodded to me before going back to his car, getting in and driving down the unusually large driveway.

"Well, at least I tried," I whispered to myself with a light blush tinting my cheeks, taking note to not try to say any more Russian to avoid further embarrassment.

"I can do this," I nodded, taking my bags in each hand, the sound of the wheels running across the cobblestone just adding to my anxiety.

God, even the _door _was intimidating, standing quite a bit taller than me. The wood looked old and it was layered with metal designs. I looked for a doorbell and was surprised to find a very out of place, white, rectangular one to the left.

I pressed it, and waited very shortly before an uncomposed Estonia pulled open the doors.

"Oh thank _God,_" he quickly said, grabbing me and pulling me inside, "I'll take your b-bags to your room, just please do something about him!"

"About who?" I tried to ask, but the smaller nation had already run off down the hallway with my three bags trailing nosily after him.

A crash sounded from the opposite direction of where he had ran. I jumped a bit and stared down the darker hallway.

_Please do NOT tell me that the 'thing' I have to deal with is a very angry Russia._

Another disturbing sound, like wood splintering, came from down the hallway. I stood there rather unsure of what I was supposed to do.

_Should I go try to apologize now or go hide in that closet over there? Where did my strength go that I had when telling him to wait? God, this is why I hate those damn inventions that allow you to talk to people without physically being there, you always have more balls to say what ever you feel like than you do once you are looking at them._

_Maybe I can just go and check out the situation first, see if it's safe to meddle or not ..._

I inched towards the hallway, tensed and ready to run at the slightest noise. I thanked the heavens for making the floor nearly soundless when I walked on it. Once I walked in a few steps, I noticed the open door three down to the left from where I was standing. It was my best guess that Russia was situated in there.

I let my head peak around the corner. I gulped, not particularly liking the atmosphere seeming to emit from the slumped over figure. He was sitting on a chair, his head face down against the table. It looked like a conference one, a rectangular shape with four chairs on either long side and one at each head. A whiteboard was on the side of the wall opposite to me, glistening as if just washed. His back rose slowly and unevenly as if he was barely containing himself. There was a broken chair on the other side of the room as well a huge mess of broken glass. Some liquid was smeared on the wall that looked a very dark red, almost brown. It looked as if it was thrown on since it was concentrated in very small blobs. The lights were on, making the room seem creepily bright and the steel pipe sitting beside the Russian was very unsettling.

_Now is not the time to interrupt, I should probably let him sulk for a little while. That would be cruel though to just let him be sad ... Maybe I can cheer him up a bit? It's my duty! I have to nice, I should apologize... In roughly 10 hours._

I made a move to leave, but something stopped me in my tracks.

"I CAN'T DECIDE," screeched the phone, vibrating like crazy in my pocket, "WHETHER YOU SHOULD LIVE OR DIE,"

I gaped at the now very tensed Russian, his body registering that I was in the room. I fumbled for the phone in my pocket, unsuccessful because of my shaking fingers.

"OH YOU'LL PROBABLY GO TO HEAVEN, PLEASE DON'T HAND YOUR HEAD AND CRY,"

"I'm sorry! I am so sorry! I didn't mean to-" I tried to stammer out an apology quickly before I stopped. _Did I just hear ...?_

"No wonder why," grunted Russia, his head lifting from the table, a smile and cheery purple eyes directed towards me, "My heart feels dead inside, cold and hard and petrified. Lock the doors and close the blinds, we're going for a ride."

And as Russia had sung the last few lines along with the phone, the noise ended along with him. I just stared at him, surprised to see such a happy person in front of me instead of an angsty pile of anger that I had assumed would rear its head from the atmosphere.

"Mattvey, you came!" he giggled, standing up on wobbly legs before crashing forward to hug me, "I didn't think you would!"

It took my brain a little while to start to comprehend the situation, then I quickly pulled my limp arms up to push at Russia's sides.

"P-Please g-get off me," I whispered, my nose stinging from the heavy scent of alcohol.

"Yes, yes!" he grinned like a madman, holding my shoulders at arms length, "We have much to do! We lost a bit of time with your late arrival, so we must cut out some hugging! Don't worry though, not all the hugging is cut!"

"B-But, I, wait, uhm, what? W-What do you mean w-we have lots to do? It's a bit late, no?" I stumbled, looking up at the overly exuberant country, "And w-why are you so h-happy? I thought you w-would be u-upset?"

"Oh Mattvey, there is lots we can do even if it's dark out," he smirked, "And why would I be upset if I thought you weren't going to come at all! Now look, you are here! Here you are and we can go and do everything I planned, okay?"

"D-Don't you t-think you should r-rest for a l-little while? Y-You seem a b-bit tipsy?" I questioned, rather embarrassed for pointing out that fact. His eyes were having a hard time focusing on mine and he was very slightly rotating in a circle.

"Are you suggesting I can't hold my liquor?"

"N-NO!"

"Good," he smiled once more, "Then let us go."

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the room, his trench coat flaring out a bit behind him as we went down the hallway. We got to the front foyer and he pulled me down a separate hallway, choosing one door and going inside. It looked very much like the other room, except in this one a projector and a screen replaced the whiteboard and the chairs and table were a bit more casual. He walked steadily over to the phone in the middle of the table and picked it up. A very rapid, quick discussion in Russian happened before he slammed the phone down.

"Go dress a bit more," he furrowed his brow for a loss of word, "Prettier? Uhm ... Oh! More formal, something very nice. Meet me back down in the front entrance in roughly an hour, then we shall go."

"U-Uh, but, where? Wait, c-can't I just..?" Again, I was a bit confused by all this and wanted a little while to think. I guess though if he was giving me an hour that was more than enough, "O-Okay."

"Good!" he laughed, patting my shoulder and hurrying me out of the room and down the hallway once more.

"LATVIA," he boomed up the stairs as he walked up them, me following close to his heel, "Come show our guest his room,"

Latvia moused out from around a bend, shaking quietly and furiously as he looked between myself and Russia.

"Y-Yes," he nodded, his eyes looking at my shoes, "T-This w-w-way,"

I followed him, moving from behind the Russian to climb the rest of the stairs.

"Hello, I'm Canada," I tried to introduce myself, holding out my hand, but he flinched from the movement. I immediately dropped my hand, "S-Sorry,"

"One hour, remember that!" Russia grinned, turning around and walking back down the stairs.

Latvia scurried down the hallway, making me quicken my pace slightly to catch up. We went up two more flights of stairs and down three more interconnecting hallways before he opened one of the doors. It made me a little nervous that he used a key, but once it opened it my jaw dropped. The room was decorated in red and white. The walls were white, the floor was hardwood and a thick, white carpet with black designs was in the centre of the room. My bed was king-sized, a very pretty white headboard and frame as well as a white comforter. The pillows and under sheets were ruby red and so was the rim around the very long mirror in the back corner. There were two doors, both closed.

"Thank yo..." I tried to thank the other country, but when I looked around he had already headed back down the hallway.

I bit my lip and looked back at the room and walked inside. The first thing I did was go and open the first closed door; it was a closet only a little bit smaller than the actual room. Everything was white; the walls, the shelves, racks, floor and nooks. It was already full of my clothes[the only colour in the room], my empty suitcases set off under one of the nooks. Besides my own clothes, there were other outfits and shoes and accessories through the closet. I walked around inside for a small while, shocked at how large it was. I searched through the few racks of foreign clothes before the idea of the other door started to tempt me.

I walked outside of the closet, looking over at the door. I turned the knob and slowly peaked inside. It was a washroom, a washroom that belonged to a God! I rushed inside, a small giggle bubbling up and out of me. That tub had jets, actual jets! And that shower, although the see-through glass made me a bit weary, the way it connected to the tub and with that tile co-ordination! Oh lord, don't even get me started on the sink, the way the tap was a circle and water splayed over top of it! The counter tops were perfect, the mirror the right shape and the light fixtures blending in so much I barely even noticed them. The toilet looked pretty plain, but it was suited in this scheme and I could not get over how it just all _fit_!

After a few more minutes of obsessing over the washroom decor, I finally got the wits to try and clean up a bit. I dug through the counter cupboards and pulled out a face clothe and a bottle of what seemed like moisturizer and some soap. After a quick clean, I made my way into the closet, searching lazily through the clothes, my mind drifting slowly around what had happened today.

_Why wasn't he more upset? He seemed very angry over the phone ..._

That really stressed me that he acted as if nothing happened, as if even though the room he was in was a mess, he had just been sitting there like a good kid doing nothing at all. Why was he smiling when the mood moments before had been very unsettling?

_Why the hell am I even up here?_

I sat down in the middle of the closet, grabbing my head in my hands, _what is going on?_ _It's not even been an hour since I have been here and I feel so confused and frustrated._

I brought my hand down to my pocket and removed the phone, looking down at the screen. It had a window up saying that I had a missed call from "Fatass/Frog". I hit cancel and started typing in a different number, I wanted to talk to England again. Maybe he could help me make sense of this, if only a little bit.

...oOo...

_AND SCENE! (:  
>Alrighty, I hope you guys enjoyed this! I apologize profusely for uploading so late, I've just been busy and I haven't been really in the mood to write too much. I promise I will work harder and see if I can get another update out sooner, but I have an extremely tough semester this term.<br>Critic is always welcome, negative or positive. I know I am not perfect and there is always room for improvement!_

_Now, for some feedback from you! Where exactly do you think Russia is going to take our little Canada? First person to get it right, I will give you a prize. Whatever you want, whether it be a one-shot or whatever, as long as it is within my power!_

TRANSLATIONS

Cпасибо - Thanks


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